I am no social creature, but I have been making lots of socials this extended weekend.

Saturday I th. st. shopped with three boys who I don't know too well, but I feel very comfortable around. I rode around in an automized handimobile chair that went by the name of THE MINI-JAZZY. When I tell people that I shopped in an automized handimobile chair, they always ask: "Was it a Rascal?" What is the Rascal, and why does it dominate the handimobile chair industry? I'd much rather sauce around in a mini-jazzy. MUCH.

I found in a basket of wearable buttons three consecutively: one said: "OREGON" and the word was spewing out of a rainbow. The other said: "NEW HOPE" and it had a dove. The third said: "I LOVE FAMILY." I read into this by believing it is a sign from above, and the sign is telling me that I should move to Oregon, OR NOT. It is up to me, and not the Lofty Beings, I suppose. But I wore the Oregon button over my heart to remind myself, that I must save the $$$$$. "I LOVE FAMILY." I believe that moving doesn't mean that I love them less.

The show with Andrew Kaffer was I would say, very good. He has deep, deep smile lines, and very flashy teeth that make me comfortable. I wore a short pink and white striped girl dress over short jeans. I took the pants off and danced my ass off, because Andrew had amazing mixed tapes saved on his laptop.

I guess that it's pretty funny how I'm quite humbled by my bodacious ba-donk-a-donk outside of a dance party environment, but once the beat is laid it quickly becomes an asset, and the soul of one Missy M. Elliott enhabits my body and I just want to shake it, I reckon.

I took an Andrew to Richland, WA where his Mother lives. It was but a short jaunt in good company. I found that I had trouble articulating around him, and I can't understand why. He would ask me questions about my beliefs and opinions, and I would feel cloudy. It wasn't because I felt intimidated, or that I would be judged, it just felt like I had forgotten. Hmmm. I spent some time at his mother's house, and his family is tons and tons like mine. Amount of kids, soda preferences, babysitting situations, nice nice mother. It was all familiar.

The ride back home alone was wrought with thick dense fog, thicker than the drive there had offered, or maybe only worse because it was dark. But I couldn't see the road, and I felt like I was floating. It literally induced nausea that felt similar to sea sickness, and I thought about pulling over but didn't know what was on either side of me. I rode it out while listening to Donovan's Peace and Love compilation. Wild.